


saving

by koganewest



Series: Keith Genuary [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Galaxy Garrison, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Lonely Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 22:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17589323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koganewest/pseuds/koganewest
Summary: Keith experiences his first week at the Garrison and learns that many of the people there are kind — and that many are not.





	saving

**Author's Note:**

> for keith genuary: free day  
> (hunk, lance, and shiro)

Keith wasn’t always content being the loner — in fact, he did everything he could to erase that image of himself when arriving at the Galaxy Garrison. 

It seemed, though, as if he couldn’t escape the label, no matter what he did. Even when he tried to make friends in elementary school, he was rejected immediately. Now, nothing has really changed. Back then, he found that no one gave him a chance because of how cold and distant he seemed. 

In reality, he was just lonely. 

After a while of fruitless efforts, he begins to think it’s his fault. He knew it was irrational, but he’s been rejected his whole life by numerous people. He was the only common factor in each situation, so who else could possibly be the problem? 

Everything could change for the better at the Garrison, though. 

When he first gets accepted, he imagines finally leaving the tumultuous foster care system, finally being able to be accepted like a normal teenager, finally being able to _live._

At the garrison, he has the chance to reinvent himself, but it doesn’t go as well as he’d hoped. 

His roommates are already friends by the time he arrives, and they seem to want nothing to do with him. Refusing to get discouraged by this, he tries again in his first class — then again in his next class, then the next. By the time Keith gets to the mess hall for dinner that first day, he’s just about given up on changing his luck. It seems as if he’ll never be able to fit in. 

Dejectedly, he gets in line behind two boys who are talking, jittery but happily, about the Pilot Trials during the first two weeks of school. They’re both tall, tan, and practically radiating excitement. 

Keith eyes them carefully, considering one last try at friendship. They seem nice enough. One is big and broad, while the other is long and lean, and they seem to have known each other for years.

For a moment, he catches the larger one’s eye, who looks slightly confused for a moment, before he turns to him fully with an amicable smile and introduces himself clumsily. “Hi! Who are you? You can call me Hunk! It’s nice to meet you! Sorry I’m talking so fast, I’m just really really—”

“Nice mullet,” interrupts the other student, an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Keith,” he responds to the first boy, shaking his outstretched hand. Then, Keith turns to the other cadet, raising a cautious eyebrow. “…Thanks?”  
“Sarcasm,” he laughs playfully, and Keith flushes in humiliation merely at the sound. Then they’re distracted by reaching the front of the line, filling their plates hungrily with as much as possible. It’s enough to take Keith’s mind off the awkward encounter.

The bigger one, Hunk, turns around for a brief moment to smile kindly at him, whispering so the other boy can’t hear them. “Don’t mind Lance, he’s just nervous.”

The smile that appears on Keith’s face is an accurate expression of the most genuine happiness he’s felt in years. He thinks that they’ve accepted him. The excitement buzzes deep within him, threatening to burst out and spill over, but Keith withholds it for the sake of his dignity. However, when he follows them to their table, it’s crowded and packed full of people. There seems to be two seats saved for the two boys he met, but not enough room for him. 

He refuses to let it get to him, though. There are a lot of people at the Garrison. Tt’s nothing personal.

He chooses a seat at an adjacent table, where a group of year-two engineers have spread papers to both ends. They don’t talk to him, but they don’t really shun him either, and Keith’s great mood persuades him to consider it a victory. 

His day goes pretty well after that, and he gets through the next few days fine, too. Keith wouldn’t call it fun or exciting like the first day, but it’s certainly not lonely like his previous experiences in school. He doesn’t talk to many people, but there’s plenty of time for that.

The first week is supposed to end with the elimination of the bottom 20% of pilots, so on Friday, everyone is on edge. By the time it’s noon, all pilots have gathered to the large screens in the common room, waiting anxiously for the list to appear. They wait and wait and wait — with baited breath and nervous shaking. 

And when the screen finally lights up, all eyes land on the board, where Keith’s name is at the very top, sat snugly at number one. 

Chaos ensues, and the room erupts with noise.

He hears at least two people start to cry, probably because they’ve been eliminated from the pilot program. He hears a few shouts of elation, for either making it through cuts or placing in the top ten for fighter class training. He hears a few confused murmurs, wondering who in the world has earned the number one spot. He hears angry grumblings about how “my grandmother is on the board” and “my father donates so much money to this school.”

Keith looks to the boy he met at lunch, Hunk, for reassurance, but he’s busy hugging the other boy he met, the thin one, who’s name he can’t recall. They look happy. Hunk looks genuinely proud of the other boy. 

And then, before he can awkwardly make for the exit, there’s a boy in front of him, a bit taller than him and a lot more muscular. “You!” He snarls, and his voice is menacing. So is the finger he jabs at Keith’s chest. “You’re Kogane, right?”

Keith’s response is barely a nod before he’s being whisked away with a strong arm around his shoulder. 

“We’re gonna have a quick chat, excuse us.” The sentence makes his gut twist with fear as they go down a few hallways in silence — Keith too nervous to ask anything — until they finally reach the doors to the yard in the back of the west wing. 

The second they’re outside in the pouring rain, there’s a swift punch delivered to his gut, and Keith falls to the ground, due to the unexpectedness of it all. “What the fuck is your deal?!” Each word is punctuated by a sharp kick to his stomach. “How dare you take the top spot away from me?!”

Even though Keith’s never been in a fight before, he’s able to recuperate fast, rising to his feet and ready to flee. The other kid is quicker, though, more experienced, and he easily punches Keith square in the face. 

Soon enough, they’re frantically thrashing at each other. 

Keith can feel scratches all over him, perceives the swelling of his eye socket, tastes the blood from his lip. The heavy rain washes down his face, dampens both their heads as Keith is kicked and kicked and kicked. 

He throws up before he even can try to stop himself. 

The boy seems to bore eventually, anger cooling down, and he leaves Keith there, soaking wet and heaving on the pavement. No one comes to help. He sleeps there that night, outside in the rain, in the freezing cold, as blood seeps from his wounds and streaks his face.

In the morning, he wakes up to kind eyes and a reassuring voice.

“Hey, are you alright?” The man asks, tall and broad but gentle. “I’m Shiro, bud. Can you tell me your name?” The question, though simple, is too much for Keith to process. He can’t really think enough to respond, but the man —Shiro— seems to understand. He scoops Keith up from the floor, cradles him gently in his arms and brushes his matted hair aside. 

“You’re safe now, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was an old piece of mine that I repurposed. love me some soft garrison boys :)  
> -lily


End file.
